


Arrow in Flight

by bobtailsquid



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Duel Monsters tournaments, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, background kaiba/yuugi as a treat for the author, is she... you know... (summons harpie lady), rivalshipping - Freeform, visionshipping - freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27494794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bobtailsquid/pseuds/bobtailsquid
Summary: Malik and Mai join forces to convince a reluctant Ishizu to enter the Duel Monsters 10th Anniversary tournament with them. To her own surprise... she agrees.
Relationships: Ishizu Ishtar/Kujaku Mai | Mai Valentine, Kaiba Seto/Mutou Yuugi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 22
Collections: Yu-Gi-Oh! It's Time to G-G-G-Gift! [Mini-Exchange]





	Arrow in Flight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yuaki1707](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuaki1707/gifts).



> Hi Yuaki1707!! It was a real treat to get to write so much about my fav YGO lady, Ishizu <3 thanks for the fun prompt, hope you like!!

Zeno’s paradox of the arrow in flight says motion is impossible. At any single moment - a hairline fracture of time - an arrow is exactly where it is, and nowhere else: not coming from where it was, or flying forward to its target. And yet, in the next moment, it’s somewhere else. 

Ishizu lay in bed, frowning into the rippling puddle of Mai’s hair, her nose filling with the faded golden bourbon scent of her perfume, laced with floral notes and sweat. Every long, drowsy breath traded one for the other: inhaling Mai, exhaling herself. Mai shifted sleepily under her arm. Ishizu slid her hand down the soft, pale slope of her waist and cuddled closer, mouth to the back of her neck. The shadows on their bedroom wall were a gloomy blue-grey and fading, announcing the arrival of a chilly, overcast dawn, but their comforter made a fortress of warmth around them. In this moment, this minute - who gave a damn if the arrow didn’t move? 

But the archer was a tyrant, the past a misery, the future a mystery. Every night she went back in time, through a flickering, stone-walled tunnel that looped and whirled; every morning she woke up more uncertain than before. At some point the arrow had to fucking _hit._

* * *

Ishizu woke up to a long, shallow imprint in the bed beside her, a meager puddle of warmth still collecting in the bottom. It was not the first time she’d woken up that morning: Mai’s phone had buzzed an hour ago. She’d read it, rolled out of bed, and sent Ishizu back to sleep with a kiss planted in her hair. Through the closed door came the distant sounds of food sizzling in pans, Rishid’s sonorous voice, the fridge opening and closing. Laughter: Mai’s glittering cascade, a laugh like a pop of champagne - a frothy burst, followed by a rich trickling - and Malik’s satisfied chuckle. Strange. 

Usually when Mai stayed over, Malik didn’t leave his room, or he stayed out all night, swaggering in well after she left, with his tousled hair drenched in the smell of beer, cigarettes, and Ryou. He had, on his own, decided it might be hard for her, and made himself scarce. It was not shame that drove him, but graciousness, drawn from that deep, rarely-seen well: an understanding that he’d made peace with himself, but others might not have made their peace with him. 

And yet, their voices continued indistinct through the walls of their little apartment in Domino, tones without words, rising, falling, flowing. Still dreaming? A dream of some lush, distant future, where her girlfriend and her brother had found a way to look each other in the eye?

The comforter pressed down around Ishizu, with small, curious steps, and a tiny pink nose ghosted over her face, tickling her ear in polite, purring inquiry: _awake? touch me? pet me?_

The temptation to stay in this languid, cloud-soft dream, curled around the cat as their voices wove softly and smoothly together in a tapestry of peaceful life, was hard to resist. But Ishizu nudged Harley aside (short for Harley-Davidson XR750, Malik’s ridiculous name) and slid out of bed, shrugging into her dark blue silk robe. She scooped Harley, small and squirmy and black, into her arms, and wandered into the kitchen. She wanted to see the dream before it ended and she woke up, although now seemed like the moment when a dream would do that kind of thing, smash back to the mundane black of a cool, wary morning: Rishid at the kitchen counter, perched on a stool, flanked by a steaming cup of coffee and a stack of books for his postcolonial literature class; Mai in sweatpants, her blonde hair tumbling from her head from a high fountain of a ponytail, studying her frying pan of chocolate chip pancakes the way she studied a poker hand; and Malik, cutting the ends off flower stems with a paring knife. 

All three of them turned towards Ishizu as she walked in, greeting her with three different smiles: quiet and sweet, always forgiving; beaming, flashing a hint of ivory between rosy lips; and an arrogant, self-assured grin. 

“Sister!” Malik declared, throwing the bundle of yellow-pink Peruvian lilies into a ceramic vase. “These are for you.”

“What? Why?” Ishizu said, as Harley wriggled out of her grasp, thumping to the kitchen floor.

“We felt like it,” Mai said, leaning over to peck her cheek with another kiss. 

_“We?”_ Ishizu said, frowning at her girlfriend, who loved to play little games - laying down bait, setting traps in every glance, every conversation a twisty, arch little misdirection, sleight-of-hands and kisses that never let her know what to expect (and before she knew it, she was in love with her) - to get a straight answer was almost impossible (well, honey, I’m _not_ ), and there had to be more to it than just a simple _we…_

“They,” Rishid said, in a bid to end her puzzlement, “went for a walk, and got you flowers.”

Malik set the flowers in the corner of the kitchen counter, where they glowed bright and defiant against the grey ambient light of a mid-winter morning. Ishizu cast a skeptical glance at the three of them, watching her as she leaned forward and drew in a long breath of wet, fragrant air. 

“They’re lovely,” she said, “thank you. But - Malik, get down, how many times have I asked you not to sit on the kitchen counter in street clothes?”

“Yes, sister,” Malik intoned, rolling his eyes, sliding off the kitchen counter and choosing instead to lean against it. At twenty he was long and lanky, hands tucked into the pockets of his skinny jeans, his fashionable black hoodie pushed up to his elbows. Wispy blonde feathers of hair fluttered past the lining of the hood. His eyes gleamed brightly through smeared, leftover lines of mascara, completing the portrait of louche, indifferent cool. He was acing all of his classes.

“Is that why you got up so early this morning? To go for a walk?” Ishizu said, again looking at Mai.

“I asked her,” Malik said rapidly, and Ishizu didn’t miss the proud little smile that Rishid sent him. “I thought it was time for us to, uh… talk about some things.”

“Yeah, we’ve decided to bond,” Mai said with a roguish smile. “We’re going shopping downtown, just the two of us, maybe hit up the town a little. You think you were a wild child? You ain’t seen _nothin’,_ sweetie.”

She aimed a light punch into Malik’s shoulder. To Ishizu's surprise, he allowed it, a little uncertain, a little uncomfortable, but smiling all the same. 

Ishizu chewed her lip. What they had to say to each other - what they talked about - she couldn’t quite imagine, with her own swell of pride for Malik and a surge of affection for Mai. What do you say to the innocent woman you locked in a psychic prison? The collateral damage of your misaimed wrath? What do you say to the man - the angry, wounded boy - who broke your mind? 

“I’m glad you talked,” she said, and meant it. “But Malik, you didn’t tell me you were… what brought this on?”

“You,” Mai and Malik said in unison, and Mai laughed, turning back to her chocolate chip pancakes. A warm, sugary smell of dark chocolate and fresh dough blossomed through the wintery air. The first stack was ready. She flipped them, with a casino dealer’s flair, onto a plate, and handed that to Malik, who gave them to Rishid.

“I’ve been meaning to, for a while now,” he confessed. “Since Mai spends so much time here nowadays, and even Harley likes her…”

With Mai’s back turned, he pinned a firm, remorseless look on Ishizu, a look whose meaning was inescapable: _we both know you’d make yourself choose between me and Mai. And we both know who you’d choose._

“And the past is the past. I don’t want to let all of that get in the way of _us,”_ Mai said brightly, slinging more pancake batter into the pan.

“They’re burying the lede, and they’re buttering you up. Have you checked your email this morning?” Rishid said, delicately dog-earring his book.

“Traitor! You’re supposed to help!” Mai said, grinning.

“I haven’t checked. What am I going to find?” Ishizu said. 

“Pegasus is hosting a tournament to celebrate the tenth anniversary of the release of Duel Monsters. Anyone who’s ever been anyone in Duel Monsters has been invited to participate. That includes,” Rishid said, pausing to take a sip of his coffee, because no Ishtar lived without an instinct - nay, a flair for the melodramatic - “all eight Battle City finalists.”

With a pointed frown, Ishizu’s gaze dropped sideways. 

Below her bare feet were the cool tiles, her own murky reflection, a nebulous mist of thought. 

Harley wound through her legs like a supple drop of midnight, arching her back into Ishizu’s calf, begging attention. She picked her up and sidled onto one of the three kitchen stools, setting Harley on the stool between her and Rishid.

“Well?” Mai ventured, carefully sliding a plate of pancakes across the counter, the chocolate chips pebbled in a messy heart. Harley pointed her nose at them, giving them a tentative sniff.

“No,” Ishizu said.

“Told you she wouldn’t go for it,” Malik said. 

“I'm writing a _dissertation._ I don’t have time, and you don’t, either. I let you come to Japan with me because you _promised_ you’d go to school, study, and be safe and responsible. _Not_ play Duel Monsters!”

“I’m doing all that and _then_ some," Malik snapped, "so I don't understand why you draw the line at _this_ \- "

“This _is_ safe and responsible Duel Monsters,” Rishid interrupted smoothly. “Pegasus is donating a million dollars to a charity or cause of the victor’s choice, and Kaiba’s giving a special-edition custom-designed Duel Disk to every duelist who participates. No stakes. Nothing is on the line but our own pride. No one is at risk.”

He said this gently, looking at Ishizu with a knowing smile, because he did know.

"Are _you_ going to duel?" she said, reaching out to stroke Harley, scratching behind her ears, under her chin, Harley stretching her neck to enjoy it better.

"I confess I'm already considering strategies... and I'd like to duel as myself this time, with my own deck, and my own name."

Well. She could not begrudge him that.

"And _you_ two," she said, aiming her suspicion at Mai and Malik on the other side of the kitchen counter. "What's this conspiracy you have going on?"

"No conspiracy! We just thought - well, _he_ did - if we meet again across the dueling field, we should talk first, clear all the bad air out of the room... so we did. About a lot of things. Not just dueling, but me and you, and the _three_ of you, and everything you've been though," Mai said. "You should be proud. The whole punk rock anarchy act really had me going for a while, but he’s actually very sweet.”

"It’s _not_ an _‘act,’"_ Malik retorted, through a cheekful of pancake, and Mai cackled with delight.

"Rock on! Fight the power! Not your siblings, though."

Malik rolled his eyes, turned pink beneath them, and focused very hard on his pancakes. Ishizu and Rishid exchanged silent looks: they had talked about this - the question of Mai and Malik - with much more tearful sniffling and much less gentle teasing. Surreal.

“We _are_ proud,” Rishid said.

"But really," Malik said hastily, setting his plate aside and resting his forearms on the countertop, "this tournament doesn't mean anything. It's just going to be the best of the best, showing off how good we are."

"Okay. That's why _you_ want to duel. But I haven't dueled seriously since Battle City,” Ishizu said. “ _And_ I had the Tauk. That hardly makes me one of the best."

Mai rolled her eyes. "Please. We both know there's a stone-cold killer in there, waiting to kick Kaiba's ass for real this time. Eat the pancakes while they're still warm, babe. They're melty."

Ishizu tore off a scrap of pancake with the tines of her fork, dragging stripes of melted chocolate across the plate. Kaiba would probably laugh at her indecision; tell her to stomp on the past and rebuild her own glorious future out of the rubble of memory, or such-and-such. But none of the fancy coats and the dragon jets and the Shakespearean speeches, almost comically theatrical if they weren't all so cold-blooded and serious, hid how hard it was for him to do that. 

None of them said anything as she slipped off the stool and went to the bedroom to get her phone from the nightstand. There was the invite, at the top of her email. She ignored it for now and sent a text to Kaiba. He had been more than generous helping them rent an apartment in Domino, dismissing her gratitude with some disingenuous guff about what little dent it made. They talked, sometimes.

He replied almost immediately.

> _Kaiba Seto  
> _ _Obviously. Hoping for a REAL duel with you. Without the interference of fairy tale nonsense.  
> _ 11:32 AM

"He's dueling," she said, resuming her seat and slinging her phone down with a clatter on the countertop, leaving him on read. "I thought he retired."

 _"Everyone_ is dueling," Mai said. "It's going to be one big party. What's biting _you?"_

Ishizu frowned at her, wishing they were alone right now, instead of in the kitchen with Malik. It was easy to be vulnerable with Mai, who had climbed out of her own dark, unhappy pits more than once. In front of Malik it was hard to be anything other than a monolith of firm maternal patience. 

He pulled her favorite mug out of the cabinet - ARCHAEOLOGY: IF YOU DON'T KNOW, IT'S PROBABLY CEREMONIAL - filled it with coffee, dropped in two sugar cubes and a splash of hazelnut creamer, and offered it to her. Ishizu gazed up at him, his sharp, clever features softened by the gentle hoping at the heart of this wordless gesture, remembering all over again why she'd done it, as she did every day. But with memory came misery, countless nights of begging the Tauk to show her something other than a future full of despair.

"The thought of dueling - isn't - _fun_ for me," she forced out. "I didn't set up Battle City so I could enjoy it. I didn't duel for a lark, or to win prize money, or to test my wits and strategies against anyone. I set it up to save _you,_ and then you got _hurt_ \- " she glanced at Rishid - " _you_ got hurt - " she swung her gaze at Mai. "And _you_ got hurt. Why would any of you want to relive any of that? Why would I?!"

"We _aren't_ reliving it," Malik said heatedly. "It's done. It's _over._ This is completely different. Just crumple it up and throw it over your fucking shoulder. You can't just let your feelings steamroll you - "

 _"Malik,"_ Rishid chided, and Malik swallowed his tongue. "Ishizu, look around you. Look at where we are, what we're doing. We’re all here. The past is always with us, that is true. But so is the future."

Ishizu half-freed, half-forced a sigh from the hot, anxious clenching in her chest, and gathered her hair in a thick, sleek rope over her shoulder. He was right, of course. But the Tauk had made things difficult - made it too easy to flow backwards into the past, and too easy to give up the ghost of the future. She was still, privately, grateful to Kaiba for breaking it, and for showing her there were other ways to live... for the first time in years, she sent up a silent prayer to her namesake.

“Okay, listen,” Mai said, flipping the curls of her ponytail over her shoulder. “There’s gonna be a lot of people watching this. Pegasus invited thirty-two duelists total, so I asked around. Guess how many of those duelists are women.”

Ishizu sifted through a handful of names. Admittedly she didn’t follow professional dueling with as much attention or interest as the three of them.

“Ten?”

“Four.”

_“What?!”_

“Me, you, Vivian Wong, and Rebecca Hawkins,” Mai said. “Now think about all the girls who are going to be watching this at home, with their dork-ass duel jock brothers or boyfriends and whatever, and think about what it would mean for _them_ to see one of _us_ win. For us to even show up, and make some real trouble for the jumped-up Bandit Keiths and Jounouchis of the world. What about that future? Maybe we’ll even get to duel each other! We didn’t get to do _that_ in Battle City!”

She beamed, throwing the light of her brilliant smile over Ishizu. It all seemed so cheerful, so happy, freed from the leaden weights of guilt and failure… almost frivolous. 

But that was one of the things Ishizu loved most about Mai: her determination to find a way forward. To not just move past the damage, but defeat it. A duelist’s way of thinking…

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Mai repeated.

“Yes, _okay._ I’ll duel.”

“Yes!” Mai kissed her fingertip and pressed it to the tip of Ishizu’s nose, prompting a furious blush. “See? I told you we could convince her!”

Malik, shoving half a pancake into his mouth, conceded defeat with a shrug and a roll of his eyes - and scowled, cross-eyed, as Mai tapped his nose, as well. “And one for you...” She turned around and poked Rishid’s nose. “And you!”

“Thank you. I'll cherish it,” Rishid said, so straight-faced and serious that, for the first time that morning, Ishizu laughed.

* * *

The explosion was deafening. The platforms shuddered with impact. Of Kaiba, only his silhouette was visible behind a shivering grey-brown cloud of holographic dust and smoke.

On her side, Ishizu waited, heart in her mouth, afloat in the perfect, still-water silence of the Kaiba Corp stadium. A hundred thousand breaths were caught in a hundred thousand throats, and countless more watching at home, under their desks at work, huddled together over a phone screen on the subway, sharing headphones.

She knew what she was going to see, once the dust settled. As predicted - as she had allowed - Kaiba had summoned all three Blue-Eyes White Dragons to the field, a hair’s breadth away from Polymerization. The Kotodama strategy she’d crafted kicked in, wiping them out in one fell swoop, leaving his side of the field clear for a direct attack from Cosmo Queen - and yet, what a terrifying thrill to know she’d just beaten Kaiba. _Kaiba!_ All of her duels before this had been a joke, all of them dull affairs against plodding wits. 

The holographic cloud drifted away, in perfect imitation of real smoke - rolling away belly-first, with a hiss of heat. Kaiba was half-turned away, arm flung defensively over his face… it dropped, revealing his smile, his eyes shining.

High over the stadium, like a cyberpunk black stele, the life point meter ticked to zero.

The silence of the stadium broke like a storm with noise, a sudden, surging deluge of cheers and hollering and applause. Ishizu schooled her expression, making no show of emotion greater than a hot blush, although her heart was rocketing with elation in her chest. Kaiba was already across the field, hand outstretched. Rapidly Ishizu tucked the rest of her cards into her deck, wiping her sweating palm uselessly on the side of her black leather pants.

“Congratulations,” he said, shaking her hand, cut from legend in a midnight-blue coat in a sharp and striking modern style. “No bullshit. I expected nothing less from you.”

“Thank you,” she said. Pegasus was announcing something she couldn’t hear; the crowd had barely settled down. “I hope you… enjoyed it at least?”

“It’s always a pleasure to duel someone with talent,” Kaiba said briskly, smiling again, and abruptly swung her arm up, high overhead, announcing her victory again to another roar of approval. Just for a moment, she let it get to her head - she’d beaten Kaiba, she’d done it, with nothing but her own deck and her own strategies and not even a scrap of magic - and against all odds, she was through to the finals. 

Against - ? Rishid had shown Jounouchi the door yesterday, in the same way he ended late nights when Malik’s friends overstayed their welcome: like a wall. Brooking no argument. Then he’d fallen to Kaiba, on Kaiba’s way to Ishizu. On the other half of the tournament bracket, Malik had breezed past Ryou, without a whiff of apology, and Yuugi had given Mai the fight of her life until she pulled Triangle Ecstasy Spark and shot a bullet through the heart of his elaborate trap card strategy. 

Kaiba linked arms with her, walking them off the duel platform and waving with his free hand to the crowd as he read her thoughts aloud: “It’s either your girlfriend or your brother. Are you prepared for that?”

“I have strategies for both of them.”

 _“Emotionally_ prepared.”

In response to her skeptical look, he smirked. 

“I'm not the same person you dueled last time,” he said, as they walked into the cool shadow of the entrance tunnel, out of the balmy spring heat. “I know better now."

“You’re twenty. Twenty-year-olds know nothing about anything."

"You were twenty in Battle City."

"I rest my case."

"Battle City was our plan," he said, "but what happened there was not your fault."

She stared at him.

"Like I said. I know better now," Kaiba said, releasing her as one of the better people he knew barreled towards them, glowing with excitement. “Yuugi! You pathetic loser! You’re a disgrace, don’t _touch_ me - ”

“Hey, handsome. Great duel. Glad you had fun,” Yuugi said, grinning, fisting his collar and pulling him down for a firm, passionate kiss. Kaiba, surprisingly, kissed him back, despite their one-woman audience, and they broke apart with a firecracker pop. 

Yuugi turned to Ishizu, his hand drifting downward to Kaiba’s. “Congrats. You knocked him out of the park. I can say that, right?"

"You can," Kaiba said loftily. 

“Thank you. I admit I’m feeling… pretty good,” Ishizu said.

Kaiba snorted. “You _should_ feel good. You beat _me._ I'd be offended if you didn't."

"Pegasus said if you lost, he wants us to commentate with him for the final," Yuugi said, and Kaiba rolled his eyes, with a scathing noise of disgust.

"And I was having such a nice day. Good luck with the final, whoever you face. You have the chops to win.”

"I think you need the good luck more than I do," Ishizu said, and they both laughed, taking their leave with another round of congratulatory handshakes. Memories of a different conversation drifted through her, from a different tournament, in a different, dismal stadium, less gleaming and more decayed, that same duelist who'd once been so blunt and brittle with iron-cast rage now walking away in long, relaxed strides, his hand tangling together secretly, sweetly, with his boyfriend's… and who'd helped her change the course of the future, only because she confessed she didn't see one.

Ishizu bit her lip, thinking, and went to go find Rishid.

* * *

In one of the stately suites at the top of the stadium, they watched over forty-five long, twisting minutes as Malik and Mai dueled. Ishizu's cards lay abandoned on the small knee-high table, all thoughts of crafting strategy against either of them forgotten. The duel disk Kaiba had made for her - variations on black, gold, and a vibrant Nile blue, for all three Ishtars - sat nestled in its velvet cradle, charging for the next battle.

Ishizu leaned forward, squeezing her clasped hands between her knees, watching the small figures below instead of the giant screens, their voices and their attacks magnified and bounding around the stadium. One knife-sharp silhouette, bare-shouldered in black as usual, pacing up and down his length of the field with restless, unreleased energy; one zaftig and proud, tossing her sunny blonde locks at the camera with a wink and a sultry grin, making dueling in a miniskirt and stiletto boots look easy. 

Whatever residual guilt he had for Battle City did not stop Malik from refusing to give her any quarter. Whatever forgiveness Mai had offered him did nothing to protect him from her Harpy Ladies, her exhilarated, almost delirious cries of _attack!_ ringing around the stadium. Minute by agonizing minute it went on, chipping away at each other’s life points in flakes and splinters. Ishizu took one side then the other then the other then the other again, over and over, biting her bottom lip so hard it started to bleed. Only when Rishid reached out to loop one arm around her shoulders did she stop.

Until, finally - only six hundred life points left on the field. The duel was ending. Ishizu and Rishid left the loge box, bumping past breathless spectators, and ran down to the entrance tunnel, just in time to see Mai activate Harpie Lady Phoenix Formation - wiping out the last of Malik’s wall monsters, and his life points, in a blinding flash of light and a wave-crashing roar from the crowd.

From their spot in the entrance tunnel, Ishizu and Rishid watched Mai and Malik walk across the field, hands outstretched as the stadium boomed with Pegasus’ voice _AND CONGRATS TO OUR SEMI-FINALIST, THE SENSATIONAL MAI KUJAKU!_

Beaming, radiant, Mai caught Malik in an exuberant hug, blonde curls flying into his face. He stiffened in her arms… and relaxed. Ishizu couldn’t help it: her breath caught in her throat.

Rishid glanced down at her.

"They have very strong spirits," he said, and she nodded.

Mai and Malik walked off the field, Malik straight into Rishid’s rib-cracking bear hug, an exasperated groan squeezing out of him - liar, Ishizu thought; he loved the attention _and_ the affection - her train of thought broke as Mai threw her arms around her, enveloping her in warmth, passion, the rich, delicate scent of the perfume that Ishizu loved. 

“Congratulations,” Ishizu breathed, hugging her back. “I know that wasn't easy.”

“Didn’t even break a sweat,” Mai sang, and turned to Malik. “I really had fun, kid.”

“So did I,” Malik said. “But I’m rooting for my sister in the final.”

“Well, duh!” Mai laughed, as he pulled a faint frown, suspicious of the joke, and she detached herself from Ishizu.

“I gotta run,” she said. “Jounouchi and Yuugi offered to go over final strategies with me in their suite if I won. I really don’t need their help, it's just nice to spend time with them, but, you know…”

"Humor them," Ishizu said.

“Exactly. See you in an hour, babe… it’s a date!” Mai said, winking as she pedaled backwards, and took off, curls bouncing with every step. 

Ishizu watched until she turned the corner, her heart following, and then turned to her brothers, fixing them both with a look.

"Strategies," she ordered. "You know my deck, how it works. Her swarm strategy is just a fancier type of beatdown. She probably has a counter for my Kotodama strategy already, so I'll need to reinforce it or pivot, but it's ideal against her deck because of all her Harpy Ladies. Give me everything you have. Anything you can think of!"

Rishid chuckled, smiling at Malik. "I think she wants to win."

"I think she will," Malik said smugly. "Mai's tough, but she's tougher. Let's get to it."

* * *

“Well, this is cool,” Yuugi said, a small and cheerful buffer between Pegasus, preening, and Kaiba, scowling. “For the first time in Duel Monsters history, we have two women as finalists in a Gold-rank tournament!”

“I guess we’ll have to call them the Queens of Games, right?” Pegasus said.

“Well, I think King of Games can be a gender-neutral title,” Yuugi said pleasantly. “So they can be Kings or Queens or however they identify. But it’s a shame it took this long, you know? Like some of these, uh, ‘duel jocks’ can make dueling such a hostile and unwelcome space for women and non-binary people, and there’s a lot of gatekeeping that goes on, like once I had to kick someone out of my game shop, because he was being an asshole - wait, can I say that on air? There's so many kids watching - he was being _really rude_ to a girl about her deck. It made me so freakin’ _mad. Y_ our love of the game is really all that counts - ”

“Your deck doesn’t give a fuck what gender you are!” Kaiba snarled. “Your deck only cares about your fighting spirit and your will to win! A true duelist knows that and respects it!” 

“Sounds like _someone's_ been paying attention in gender studies,” Pegasus said. “Now, Kaiba-boy, having placed third again - ”

Rishid hit mute on the remote. The suite TV, and Pegasus, fell silent.

"I cannot listen to that man for a whole duel,” he said, offering Malik a fresh, frothy, sweating beer. 

“How’s she doing?” Malik said.

“Nervous. But I think she’ll win.”

“Don’t need the Tauk to see that,” Malik said, and they tapped their beers together.

* * *

Mai rolled in the spotlight, relished it, revelled in it. She walked onto the duel field waving like a princess, soaking in the adoration of the crowd. 

Ishizu was waiting for her, stone-faced. She liked to think her sense of drama was understated, and subtle, and maybe she’d picked up a trick or two from Malik and Kaiba, but there was something to be said for just standing there, arms crossed, an impassive frown fixed perfectly in place. That was one of the things Mai said was hardest about dating her: she never let her emotions take over her face. Well. They all played their own little mind games.

ALLOW ME TO INTRODUCE OUR SEMI-FINALISTS, Pegasus announced, the stadium ringing with his voice. FIRST, HAVING UPSET NONE OTHER THAN _L’ENFANT TERRIBLE_ OF THE DUELING WORLD, SETO KAIBA, ON HER WAY TO THE FINALS, TAKING TIME OFF FROM HER DISSERTATION ON THE RITUAL AND CEREMONIAL USES OF ANCIENT EGYPTIAN GAMES TO SCHOOL US HERE TODAY, ISHIZU ISHTAR! 

In response to the bellowing crowd, Ishizu lifted a single hand, not even a wave.

AND SECOND, WALTZING PAST KING OF GAMES YUUGI MUTOU FOR A SHOT AT THE CROWN - BUT SHE WAS ROYALTY WELL BEFORE THAT AND WE ALL KNOW IT - MAI KUJAKU!

Mai waved again, blowing kisses to the crowd, her chrome violet duel disk glinting in the afternoon sun. She sent one to Ishizu, blowing it off her palm… Ishizu caught it in her fist, gave it a glance, and tossed it over her shoulder.

OH, DEAR, Pegasus said, chuckling. ARE WE IN FOR A LOVERS’ QUARREL? 

Mai and Ishizu met in the middle of the duel field and cut each other’s decks, Ishizu determined to keep a straight face despite Mai’s Cheshire grin of excitement. 

“Miss Ishtar, you had more remaining life points in your previous duel,” the referee said,. “Heads or tails?”

“Tails,” Ishizu said. 

The referee’s coin flashed a fish-scale silver in the air. He clapped it onto the back of his hand, revealing tails.

“I’ll go first,” she said.

ISHTAR WILL TAKE HER TURN FIRST. HAVE A GREAT DUEL!

Digital fire flared across the life point display high over the arena, revealing Mai and Ishizu at 4000 life points each, and they drew their cards.

The duel passed like any other: in a rocketing thrill of traps and spells, their beasts roaring for blood across the field, both of them feeling every hit and strike against their life points shuddering through their bones. The monsters throbbed with life, smoke rising in threads from the jaws of Ishizu’s Mikazukinoyaiba, the Harpie Ladies’ feathers fluttering and ruffling in the wind. Ishizu’s Cosmo Queen fell to Mai’s buffed Harpie’s Pet Dragon, knocking off a mere 300 life points, and yet Ishizu couldn’t help but duck, hissing through her teeth as the entire duel platform shivered with the impact. 

The crowd roared with approval - how gladiatorial, she thought cynically; all they wanted was base bloodsport - she ejected the thought from her mind. Who gave a damn what they were here for? Malik and Rishid were here, rooting for her from the suite, and Mai was here, dueling, and Ishizu was here, dueling Mai. 

And her blood was singing hotly in her veins. Mai didn’t duel so much as she danced, deftly side-stepping every attack, waltzing back in for another strike. It was not like Kaiba, where the game was endurance, or Malik, where the key was turning his Deck Destruction strategy against him. It was Mai, and the best way to win was to dance with her. Ishizu straightened up.

“I end my turn. Babe, I have to ask,” Mai said, “what’s a nice girl like you doing in a dive like this?”

“I’m not a nice girl,” Ishizu said smoothly, fixing her hair. 

“Coulda fooled me,” Mai sang. “Did you know - “ she said, to the crowd - “she reads her dissertation aloud to her cat? It’s _adorable._ ” 

“Both my dissertation and my cat are at home,” Ishizu said. Kotodama was already in her hand. Mai was summoning Harpie Ladies with every card possible, to support Harpie’s Pet Dragon. At the moment, she had four… Kotodama would wipe them all out, burst right through that sexy, feathery wall... but first, that dragon needed to go. “But I have _you_ right where I want you. I summon a monster in defense position, set two cards face down, and end my turn.”

“Oh, _me-ow,”_ Mai said, grinning. “Maybe you’re just as bad as I am.”

Ishizu clenched her teeth to keep from smiling, her cheek muscles threatening betrayal. “Why don’t you come over and find out?”

Mai tossed her head and laughed, a bell-clang of glorious delight. “You’re gonna regret that. Harpie’s Pet Dragon, attack her face-down monster!” 

Harpie’s Pet Dragon opened its jaws, shooting a bristling beam of light through Ishizu’s face-down card. Night Assailant bloomed into existence.

“Night Assailant’s effect activates! When flipped, I can target and destroy any monster on the field - and I choose Harpie’s Pet Dragon!”

Both monsters vanished - first Night Assailant, in a helpless, writhing scream, and then Harpie’s Pet Dragon, ashing into a glittering cloud, blown away by a holographic wind.

“I also activate my trap card - Relay Soul! I special summon Kotodama to the field. I take no damage, but if Kotodama is destroyed, you win the duel. Kotodama’s effect allows me to destroy any face-up monsters of the same name… I’m sure you can see what comes next?” Ishizu said archly.

“You’re a real heartbreaker, aren’t you?” Mai said, gazing at her Harpie Ladies with mournful affection.

Ishizu smiled for real. “I choose Harpie Lady.”

Kotodama’s effect, a glowing ribbon of runic symbols, spiraled up and around each sleek Harpie Lady. One by one, they burst into shimmering fragments, floating to the field and vanishing. Mai had no monsters left on her side of the field. Some spells for the Harpies, but nothing that would stop Ishizu now...

“And with nothing left for your battle phase, I activate Parthian Shot,” she said. “Your turn ends - ”

“Tell me, do you feel prettier when you’re winning?” Mai said. “Because you are _gorgeous_ right now - ”

“- and I activate Monster Reborn from my hand,” Ishizu announced coolly, despite her blushing. “Harpie Lady! Return to the field!”

Harpie Lady hurtled out of the sky like a spear, her long hair whipping up in a silken banner behind her. Her wings burst open with a powerful clap of air, halting her descent onto Ishizu’s side of the field. Ishizu looked up at her, admiring her graceful, aquiline wings, the wicked talons curling off her feet. A creature of legend, given life by pixels and software, given soul by the duelist who loved her most: smirking down at the field, flexing her claws in anticipation for the final blow.

Mai’s mouth fell open, half shock, half offense.

“How _dare_ you,” she said - not angry, but thrilled.

“I told you. I’m not a nice girl,” Ishizu said, smiling. “So unless you have anything you’d like to play…”

Mai cast an eye over her hand and grimaced.

“Harpie Lady, attack her life points directly!”

Harpie Lady struck, a diagonal swipe from shoulder to hip. Mai took the holographic stroke with a cool-eyed pride, welcoming her signature monster's attack like a lover welcomed a kiss.

With a digital trill, her life points rolled…

Ishizu kept her eyes on Mai, heart pounding in her mouth.

...to zero.

The stadium erupted with noise, stamping, shouting, thundering - Ishizu had forgotten them. She remained stock-still on her side of the field, with enough nerve left to keep her poise, offering the crowd nothing but a serene, knowing smile - although - she _won?_ \- Mai was shooting towards her like an arrow loosed from a bow.

"To the victor go the spoils," she said, and caught Ishizu in an exultant, swooning kiss, dipping her. Ishizu went _oh!_ , her heart swooping in her chest - and soaring, as she threw an arm around Mai’s neck and kissed her back, not caring a whit for the crowd. CONGRATULATIONS TO OUR NEWEST CHAMPION, Pegasus was saying, and neither of them were paying attention.

“Did you have fun?” Mai said, her curls forming a perfumed half-curtain around their faces. A question just for her.

“I did. I loved it,” Ishizu said breathlessly. She felt lighter than air, weightless with pure exhilaration. Any second now the earth was going to drop away below their feet and they were going to fly. 

“Good. You earned it,” Mai said, swinging her back upright, arms around her waist. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

"How about tomorrow?”

“Is that a date?”

“It’s a _duel,”_ Ishizu said, plucking another kiss from her lips. 

* * *

The victory celebrations, at an upscale club in downtown Domino, were over. Ishizu had spent the night receiving congratulations from a star-studded line of duelists: exuberant hugs from Yuugi and Jounouchi; Kaiba’s proud handshake, which she returned with equal strength; Pegasus kissing her on both cheeks, giddy and drunk, showering her with champagne. She found Rebecca and Vivian in the delirious throng of duelists and guests and brought them back to her table, arms linked, to sit with her and Mai and Malik and Rishid, and found Rebecca ferociously intelligent, Vivian vivacious and witty, talking a mile a minute. 

Now it was morning, as limp and sleepy and satisfied as a cat asleep in a window. All the trees in the parks dripped with wet sunlight, their fresh leaves a beckoning green. All the flower beds were poking soft, slender green fingers up through the dark soil, testing the air. 

And all across Domino, the duelists were waking up. Half-dressed and hungover, last night’s make-up smeared in glittery silica clouds around their eyes, mouths sour with half-remembered shame, or in their pajamas, responsibly cozy with a glass of water and an aspirin at the ready.

In his mansion, the curtains of his four-poster flung open in welcome, Kaiba was giving silent thanks to himself for finding a path forward, a path that led to his arm deadened under Yuugi’s sleeping weight, Yuugi’s hair turning to glowing strands of gold in the morning light, Yuugi’s hand curled on his chest, reminding him he was not alone. 

A savage hangover was splitting through Pegasus’ skull. So he tossed his phone aside, emails unanswered, threw the French doors open to the silky light, and sat down in his bathrobe to fling paint onto a canvas. New cards were twitching and rocking in their eggs, ready to hatch. 

Vivian lay in bed in a luxurious, skyline-view hotel room, sliding her feet around in search of cooler pockets, scrolling through Instagram for the new slew of dueling memes. Laughing to herself, she sent all the best to the new ladies-only groupchat. _IS SHE, YOU KNOW… *SUMMONS HARPIE LADY*_

Rishid was finishing up the last of his customary morning run. He came quietly through the apartment door, flapping his zip-up sweatshirt in an effort to fan himself. Harley chirped as she trotted towards him, her tail an exclamation mark of greeting. He was her favorite.

“Good morning, Harley Davidson XR750,” he said, sitting down as she arched up to meet his palm. The day had started well and promised better: oranges sat in a bowl on the kitchen counter, perfect for juicing; he was halfway through a good book, not for class; a screening at the independent theater and a brewery afterwards, with his friends from the film class. Both Ishizu and Malik had insisted, over and over, that if he came to Domino, he had to come for himself. Not to watch over Malik, not to suffer for tradition or loyalty, but to - as the American poet had said - live deeply, and suck the marrow out of life. Domino was a good place for it.

Malik shuffled out of his room, scratching a hand slowly through his messy hair, his face drawn with sullen, hidden agony. 

“And good morning to you,” Rishid said, grinning, Harley rolling between his hands. He’d stopped at two drinks. Malik had not. Malik had staggered into the club bathroom, clutching his mouth. Rishid had not followed, laughing to Jounouchi. Someone _else_ could hold his hair.

“Ugh,” Malik muttered. “More like a… fucking… _morning._ Why’d you let me drink that much?”

Rishid lifted his hands, palms out - _hands off_ \- and Malik groaned, pulling the water pitcher out of the fridge with a titanic effort.

Harley butted her head against his elbow. He cheerfully obliged, curling his finger under her chin as she purred with the deep, vibrating engine sounds of her namesake.

“Are the Queens of Games awake yet? I was going to invite them to breakfast.”

“Dunno. I think I’m dying.”

On cue, laughter burst through Ishizu’s closed bedroom door. They looked over, falling quiet, listening. On top, Mai’s high-pitched, glass-clinking laugh, and running below it, in melodious counterpoint, Ishizu’s husky contralto. A miraculous sound: their beloved sister laughing, in love, well into a future she’d never once imagined. 

Rishid scooped Harley onto his shoulder and stood up, ruffling Malik’s hair as he wandered past. Out onto the balcony, into the morning sun. Down below, the streets were rousing to life, stretching out the dull kinks of the night. Ishizu’s bedroom window was open. Again he heard her laugh, a laugh like a bet against the house - bold, devil-may-care, gambling it all because she knew she’d win - and he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Feeling bad about Battle City is OUT. Feeling good about who you're becoming and where you are now is IN. 
> 
> also the commentary trio of pegasus, kaiba, and yuugi is just unbelievably funny to me. pure undiluted chaos.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always welcome! If you liked this, you may also want to check out my other YGOME fic, "Inclement Weather," featuring snowy prideshipping!


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